


Hero's Tale - Drabbles

by Rahn (Rahndom)



Series: Hero's Tale AU [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/pseuds/Rahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of drabbles further exploring the Hero's Tale AU and how the relationship between Damian and Tim grows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fuzz

Nadya walked the streets of Blüdhaven with a small pout on her rosy lips and her hands slowly wrinkling her pristine pleated skirt. Her black hair, pulled in two high pigtails, gently danced in the night air as she tried to ignore the looks she was getting from the locals.

 

Once in a while, she would stop around a corner, look at the tourist-friendly map she held in her slender hands, furrow her brows and continue on her way.

At least three police officers had stopped her already and she politely informed them that, yes, she was not lost, and yes, she was quite fine, thank you, but she was on her way to find Mr. Nightwing and if they would be kind enough to tell him she was looking for him it would be wonderful.

Which was the reason why Dick was following the little girl from the rooftops, trying to determine whether It was a trap or if there was really an adorable six-year-old walking the most dangerous streets in the city as if it was nothing, just for the sake of finding him.

Enough was enough when the third dealer approached the girl and offered her a ride towards Mr. Nightwing’s house, which she smartly refused, but who could tell with those crooks? He’d rather make sure.

He landed in front of the girl, internally smiling when she let out a small yelp and fell on her bottom from surprise, her bony knees instantly locking together to hide her ridiculously cute strawberry covered panties.

Girls these days.

“A little bit late for you to be out without your parents, don’t you think, miss?” he asked, trying to hide his smile. “The Police said you were looking for me?”

The girl nodded, her blue eyes wide and her cheeks slowly coloring in embarrassment.

She shook her head.

“Please, Mr. Nightwing, please help Fuzz,” she said finally, her voice soft and whispery. Obviously a shy girl then.

“Fuzz?” he asked, kneeling before her. Dick didn’t want to be like Bruce, frightening children away by his mere presence. Plus, the girl was adorable. Something in her face, the turn of her nose, warmed something inside of him he didn’t think he had ever felt before.

 

“My… kitty,” she said, lowering her face.  “He disappeared and my sister and I called the police! We really did, Mr. Nightwing! But then they told Mommy and Daddy it would take a miracle to find Fuzz, or Batman and Robin! And Katterinna asked the officer if he could call Batman and Robin but the man said they were too busy to find him!”

Dick blinked, trying not to coo as the little girl bit the inside of her cheek and tears pooled in her wide eyes.

“And then what happened?” he asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. He really, really wanted to hug this little girl, but wasn’t sure how his affections would be received, she was really shy.

“Katty asked him if there was someone else who could help us find Fuzz, and he said we could try the other Robin boy, here in Blüdhaven,” she explained, eyes trained on her hands. “So, I took the bus and came.”

Dick’s eyes widened behind his mask.

“You…” he muttered. “Took a bus all by yourself from Gotham to Blüdhaven?”

The girl nodded.

“Please, Mr. Nightwing, Fuzz is just a baby, he must be so scared!”

Precautions be damned, Dick grabbed the little girl and pulled her into his arms, cradling her small body against his chest without reservations. This six-year-old had come all the way from Gotham just to look for him. Sure a missing kitten was something that Bruce would definitely leave for the police to handle, but him? Nah, he couldn’t just do it.

“Let’s get you back home then,” he said with a wide smile as the girl twirled one of her pigtails around her fingers. “And while I’m there I’ll look for Fuzz.”

“You will?” she squealed, the tears in her eyes slowly rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Nightwing! Thank you so much!”

Dick internally melted as those tiny arms wrapped around his neck.

How could he say no to such a cute face?

————

The ride to Gotham was spent with Dick asking questions to little Nadya, as it was the girl’s name, and her answering between bouts of energetic giggling and shy contemplation. He learnt that Katterinna was the girl’s older sister and that her father was a Russian merchant that spent most of his time in Europe while the mother cared for their daughters.

When he finally parked his bike in front of an upper-middle class house he was a little bit shocked – not too much, really – to find an older-looking girl in a floral summer dress crying on Jason’s shoulder.

“Please, Robin, find Nadya! She’s so small!!” she cried, clinging to Jason’s cape with trembling hands while the boy tried to awkwardly comfort her.

He snorted, alerting them both of his presence.

“Special delivery?” he called with a grin as he helped little Nadya down. The girl turned, immediately releasing Jason from her tight grasp and running to gather Nadya into a tight hug.

“Nadya!” she cried, cradling the little girl’s head in her hand and sobbing her heart out. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again! Where were you!!”

Nadya buried her round face in her sister’s chest.

“The officer said we should ask Mr. Nightwing for help,” she explained softly, causing her sister to sob harder. “He promised to help us find Fuzz!”

“Nadiya, if something had happened to you I would have never forgiven myself!” Katterinna said, falling to her knees and dragging her little sibling with her. “Promise me you will never do something like this again!”

“I’m sorry, Katty,” Nadya whispered, snuggling into her sister. Katterinna nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. Nightwing,” she said breathlessly, her eyes avoiding Dick’s shyly. “You brought Nadiya home.”

“It was the least I could do,” he replied warmly. “You have one brave little sister, miss.”

“That I do,” Katterinna smiled proudly.

Jason, who had been, until then, lurking in the background, suddenly approached them, arms crossed.

“Well, Big Bird, you found the missing girl,” he said gruffly. “Just in time for her to see how awesome her older sister and I are.”

Nadya raised her face from her sister’s dress and stared at Robin curiously. Her lips pursing.

“Why?” she asked. Katterinna smiled at her.

“While Robin was nice enough to help me look for you we found Fuzz,” she explained, her fingers playing with Nadya’s hair as she pointed to the pocket of her dress where a furry Siamese kitten was currently sleeping. The little girl’s eyes grew wide.

“You did?” she asked. “Thank you, Katty! You are the best in the whole wide world!”

“Well, Robin helped a lot, you should thank him as well,” her sister admonished. Nadya nodded, the pout on her lips deepening.

“Thank you, Mr. Robin,” she muttered sullenly, her face instantly resting in her sister’s shoulder. Dick contained his laughter, Jason flushed.

“You are welcome,” he grunted. “Just don’t scare your sister again, she was really scared for you, ya know?”

Nadya nodded, letting a yawn escape her mouth. Katty giggled.

“I think I should get you inside and call Mommy, she’s at the police station right now,” she whispered, helping her sister to her feet. “Thank you again, Robin, Mr. Nightwing. 

Dick nodded.

“I’m glad nothing happened,” he said, ruffling Nadya’s hair as she hugged him shyly once and then Katterinna’s when she did the same.

Jason blinked when the little girl approached him, her brows furrowed.

“Thank you for finding Fuzz, Robin,” she said. “But please stay away from Katty. I know she’s the prettiest girl in the world but our Daddy would kick your ass if you got too close!”

Dick couldn’t hold his laughter in check anymore as Robin’s cheeks flushed brightly and he spluttered. Katty scolded her sister before thanking Robin herself and placing a small kiss to his cheek, which only made Nadya squeal and drag her into the front yard of the house by the hand.

Both, Nightwing and Robin blinked at the two of them before leaving, commenting how alike the sisters were, since one had gone all the way from Gotham to Blüdhaven to ask for his help finding a kitten and the other had gone through all of Crime Alley to find Robin himself and asked him to help to find her missing sister and how it would make Batman laugh when Dick told him little Jason had a girlfriend.

From the front door, Nadya and Katterina watched them leave until they were out of sight, and then waited for a few minutes just to be sure they were out of earshot.

“So, those are Grayson and Todd,” Nadya said, slowly unclipping the pigtails from her head. Katterinna nodded with a small, more genuine smile.

“Those two will be your brothers one day, Damian,” she said as her voice slowly got deeper and the set of her shoulders stronger. “Don’t take out the pigtails until we are back home. Remember, we blend with the crowd.”

Damian turned to Tim before nodding, the hair extensions were uncomfortable, but he could deal with them as they rode the bus back home.

“Did I do well?” he asked hesitantly. Tim turned to him and kissed his forehead.

“You were great, no one suspected a thing, you are a very apt student,” he said cheerfully, walking away from the house and into the streets. “Now, let’s go.”

Damian nodded, following Tim to the bus stop and shyly entwining their hands together. It would be part of their act, two girls walking hand in hand as they made their way home. He hoped Tim interpreted it so.

“What are we going to do about the kitten?” he asked after a minute or so of walking. Tim pursed his lips. “Are we going to return it?”

“No,” Tim said finally. “You can’t take it with you when your tutor picks you up?”

Damian shook his head.

Tim stared at his nervous eyes and the way his fingers seemed to tighten almost unperceptively around his own hand.  He sighed.

“I guess I can keep Fuzz with me and you can come and visit him whenever you want,” he said finally, enjoying the small flush of happiness that spread all over Damian’s face. He was getting to know the kid too well.

As they boarded the bus and Tim made sure Damian sat by the window, the younger boy rested his head on his shoulder and started plotting. He was learning all the routes of Tim’s trade, if tonight was anything to go by, and it was time he returned the favor by teaching Tim to correct his posture, maybe increase his muscle mass and elasticity? He would certainly benefit.

Plus, he had to find a way to tell the older boy that, while Todd and Grayson were his father’s adopted children and one day, would be his family, Damian preferred Tim anytime and would always consider him his most dearest and beloved brother.  


	2. Mirage

It was like he had stepped into an alternate dimension where nothing was right and he just needed to get out there NOW and rescue his brothers, all two of them, from the mind altering substances that surely were affecting them.

 

Because, if not, there was no logical explanation as to why Damian, DAMIAN, for god’s sake! Was crawling childishly through the carpet in Tim’s study -it wasn't really Tim’s, but Bruce never ever used it and by the time everyone realized it Alfred had put Tim’s pictures up the walls and his favorite blanked over the expensive leather armchair- until his head rested on Tim’s lap, his lips opening for the piece of fruit Tim was offering him absentmindedly, his face snuggled contently on Tim’s knee as he chewed.

 

Tim turned to him, a small smile on his face.

 

“Good morning, you,” he greeted. “Rough night?”

 

“I was training,” Damian replied. “And Father decided to help me, he was ruthless.”

 

Tim laughed softly, his fingers carding through Damian’s hair.

 

“You had fun?” he asked, smiling brightly, Damian nodded against his thigh intimately.

 

“It was the best time of my life,” he said, puckering his lips so Tim could give him more fruit. The other boy complied, his smile fond.

 

Dick blinked, his eyes wide as he stared at the pair, the same two that, not a month ago had been at eachother’s throat for the title of Robin and Bruce’s approval.

 

He rubbed at his eyes, unable to believe himself, and jumped almost two feet in the air when a hand landed silently on his shoulder.

 

“Master Richard?” asked Alfred with a raised eyebrow. “Are you well? It is not like you to lurk in the hallways.”

 

Dick blinked, his cheeks coloring.

 

“I was just staring at those two,” he admitted with a small smile. “I’m glad to see they get along so well, although it’s a little disturbing… how close they are now.”

 

Alfred’s brows met his hairline.

 

“Those two, sir?” he asked. Dick blinked, slowly turning around to peer into the study once more.

 

Tim was sitting on the fluffy carpet -another one of Alfred’s improvements-, his laptop balanced on his lap, his hand reaching into a small bowl to munch on small pieces of fruit.

 

Dick gaped.

 

“Damian was here just a second ago!” he said, pointing. “His head was on Tim’s lap and Tim was feeding him! By hand!”

 

Alfred blinked, his brows coming together in a frown.

 

“I find that hard to believe, Master Richard, as I just served Master Damian his breakfast in bed not too minutes ago,” the old man commented, patting him on the shoulder once more. “Maybe you should rest?”

 

Dick gaped, his eyes bulging, before he dashed down the hallway towards Damian’s bedroom.

 

From his seat on the carpet, Tim eyed Alfred, a small smirk curling his lips.

 

“You are one cruel man, Alfred,” he said, drinking his tea.

 

“On the contrary, Master Timothy,” the man replied with a smile. “If you and Master Damian are not ready to display your connection in the open, it would be quite uncouth of me not to protect your privacy.”

 

“By making Dick think he’s going mad,” Tim laughed.

 

“An unfortunate sacrifice, I must admit.”

 

The two of the laughed openly as they heard Dick screaming at Damian for being on his bed and not on Tim’s lap.

 

Another normal morning in Wayne Manor, of course.


	3. Departure

Jason knows something is wrong that night. He can feel it in his blood, in his very undead bones. The wind has died and there is no screeching of night birds, no barking of dogs. It reminds him of the night he died, the night Bruce died.

 

It is the sign that something terrible is going to happen.

 

He knows he shouldn’t care, that he should return to his hideout and silently wish his former family the best, but his curiosity gets the best of him and he is speeding towards the cave as fast as his bike can get him.

 

On his way, he sees The Replacement and the sight alone makes him stop dead in his tracks because that’s not the usual broody and maybe a little bit soft Tim Drake he is used to seeing.

  
Tim is purposefully driving his own bike, no helmet. His eyes are dark and solemn, his mouth set into a thin line that betrays his distress, his hands tremble over the steering wheel that he is holding too tightly, too tensely.

 

There is a blue travelling bag strapped to his back.

 

Jason blanches.

 

Robin is leaving Gotham.

 

With a roar of the engine he returns to Wayne Manor, not bothering to search for Alfred, for he knows where he will find the old man, he slips behind the ancient clock and slides into the darkened corners of what he once called his home, easily spotting the new brat, dressed in a mock-up of his old Robin suit, practicing a complicated dance with a sword while Dick sits in front of the computer.

 

Dressed as Batman.

 

His mouth opens, then closes.

 

“You actually went ahead and did it,” he says, not surprised when Dick turns to him without so much of a flinch. A family thing. They are all used to the sneaking around and the surprise visitors. “You set a Replacement for the Replacement.”

 

Dick turns around once more, eyes on the screen.

 

“He will understand,” he whispers. Damian ignores them both, continuing his practice. Jason snorts, a cruel smile twisting his lips.

 

“You don’t get it, Dickie, they never took the suit from  _you_ ,” he mocks. “But when you lose it all, and then they take the old R from you. It hurts, it makes you do stupid things.”

 

“Such as? Tim is not like you, Jason, he’s a responsible young man,” Dick growls, shoulders tense.

 

“That’s why he was driving at break-neck speed with a travelling bag towards the airport?” Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. “You are doing such a good job, you already broke another Robin’s heart, just like the old man, huh?”

 

Dick turns to him again, his eyes wide.

 

“Tim wouldn’t,” he hisses.

 

“He did.”

 

Whatever fight might have ensued between the two is stopped the moment Damian’s sword falls limply from his hands, his whole body is facing them both, his eyes wide and fearful like neither Jason nor Dick have ever seen them.

 

“… Drake… left?” he asks, his hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

  
“You know Jason only wants to play with our heads,” Dick growls, glaring at the taller young man.

 

“He did,” Jason says with complete honesty. “Just saw him leaving an hour ago.”

 

Damian seems to transform before their very eyes, from seasoned child-assassin and certified sociopath to something amazingly mundane and frightening in its intensity, he slowly morphs into a scared boy with paling skin and dulling eyes.

 

Dick stands to ask him what’s wrong.

 

Jason knows better.

 

He guesses he looks like that when he is nearing one of his accustomed panic attacks.

 

“What did you do, Grayson?” Damian asks, his voice whispery, unsure. Dick shakes his head.

 

“Damian,” he begins, only to be stopped by a shaking hand pushed to his face.

 

“It’s impossible, Todd is obviously lying,” the child continues. “Timothy cannot leave Gotham, you see, he swore he would not. Not ever, not unless his heart stopped beating and his spirit left his body.”

 

Jason’s eyes widen, his hand unconsciously going towards his belt. He should have never come. He has unleashed something he doesn’t know how to stop or control. His death is singing in his ears it is time to take him one more time, in the hands of this child slowly spiraling into insanity.

 

“You broke Timothy’s heart, Grayson, you killed his spirit?” fingers curl, knuckles snap with tension.

 

Dick takes a step backwards.

 

“You took the most important person in this world from me,” Damian says. “You took my beloved brother from me…”

 

Dick blinks.

 

“Your brother… you mean… Tim?”

 

“Do not speak Timothy’s name with your traitorous lips, Grayson!” the boy shrieks, eyes growing maddened. “Timothy is too precious to be around you! Too beautiful! He has always been loving and sweet and has always protected me from the dark, from the shadows, he swore he was going to keep my Father safe until I was strong enough to finally face him, he swore he was always going to be there to smile at me, to be proud of me.”

 

Jason’s hand tightens around his gun.

 

“And you killed his spirit, you made him go away.”

 

The tension is so thick in the cave that Jason can feel it sticking to his lungs as he breathes, his hand is tight, his muscles ready, Dick is staring in shock at Damian, as if seeing him for the first time in his life.

 

Alfred places a gentle hand over Damian’s fist.

 

“Master Damian,” he says softly, his thumb caressing the tense wrist. “Master Timothy left something for you.”

 

A small piece of paper is trust in his hands and Damian tears into it frantically, his eyes devouring each and every word before his whole body relaxes, falls to his knees, his breathing shallow.

 

“Thank you, Pennyworth,” he hisses.

 

Jason relaxes and drapes his jacket over the shivering child’s frame, ignoring how Dick tries to piece together what has just happened and for it to make any sense in his former view of reality.

 

“I will bring back your dreams, please soar the sky as a proud Robin for me, brother,” Jason reads over Damian’s shoulder. “He’s coming back, then?”

 

Damian nods.

 

“He swore he would not leave me alone,” he whispers, his body sagging. Jason takes him into his arms, lifting his thin body effortlessly.

 

“You really love your brother, don’t you Damian?”

 

The child smiles tiredly.

  
“Of course I do,” he whispers as he slowly loses his strength. “He’s the first to ever love me, and he never asked for anything in return, the sky shines and the moon is high because Tim laughs, you know?”

 

Dick tries to swallow the lump forming in his throat when Jason mouths a silent ‘later’ and disappears to put the fainting boy to bed. 


	4. Homecoming

Tim has never felt more alone as he feels now, surrounded by assassins and people he has once considered enemies. His parents are dead, his best friends are dead, Bruce is gone… Damian is so terribly far away that he wants to crawl into bed at night, imagine the boy is there with his earthy scent and childish hands holding onto his own, and weep.

 

He feels fright at the thought that he might fail.

 

That he has worked so hard over the years to build a loving family for his little brother only to fail when they are so close to the goal.

 

He whimpers, pretending to be cold. It’s the only indulgence he allows himself until Bruce is returned safe and sound to Gotham, where he belongs, until Damian can utter the word ‘Father’ with fondness instead of reverence… until he has healed the broken little boy that he rescued that night all those years ago.

 

He closes his eyes tightly, trying to block out everything, trying to push the little voice in his head that is still asking for ‘mother’ and ‘father’, the little boy still standing on his tiptoes to look over the window as they come home. He needs no weakness right now, he needs to be strong, he has much to do, much to…

 

A hand slips into his own, rough fingers squeezing his pale and cold ones.

 

Tim’s eyes open wide and find solemn blue eyes staring back at him.

 

Damian is laying by his side on the small bed, his face serious, his hand gentle.

 

Tim wants to cry.

 

“What about Robin?” he asks in a whisper.

 

“Screw Robin,” Damian replies, his usual cocky smirk curling his lips. “What kind of superhero would I be if I can’t take care of those who matter the most to me?”

 

Tim bites his lips when the boy’s arms wrap tightly around his body and that earthy smell envelopes him completely. He embraces Damian desperately, ignoring the way their breathing grows soft, silent.

 

It’s the way the two of them cry and they know it. None will comment about it.

 

“You should go home,” Tim tries one last time.

  
“I am home,” Damian replies.

 

There is no more conversation after that.

 

When the sun rises he will send a message to Dick, to inform him that Damian is with him and to apologize, knowing the older man must be frantic with worry.

 

For now, though, he sleeps for the first time in weeks. 


	5. Happy Birthday, Bobby Draper

It had been years since the two self-declared brothers had been able to enjoy this freedom, a night of them both. Since Damian’s coming to Wayne Manor and his subsequent renouncing of the Al Ghul name, they had been forced into the complicated routine of rival siblings, bitter enemies and cold-blooded relations.

It had all been a game to them at first. A way for Ra’s Al Ghul not to connect Timothy Drake to the boy who sent cat pictures to Damian all those years ago.

But now?

Now, as they have both been told by Alfred, would have to play the scenario out to its completion. Timothy and Damian would have to mend bridges between them that had never been broken and pretend to slowly let go of a rivalry that had never existed, if only to save face to the fact that THE Batman had not adverted to his presence all those years ago.

Which was the main reason for their joy as they found the night to themselves. With Bruce away in space to some mission for the League or other, Dick in Blüdhaven, looking after who knows what and Jason chasing Kori into Europe for an impromptu… whatever she had wanted out of him.

Alfred had not even blinked when the youngest Robin appeared on the hallway dressed in baggy jeans, ripped at the knees and a worn red hoodie with some rock band name or other plastered on the front, his shoes looked dirty and worse for wear and there was a silver ring piercing the top of his left ear that he was sure had not been pierced as of yesterday.

Tim, on the other hand, came after him with skintight washed out jeans of his own, a hoodie carefully tucked under a secondhand store cardigan, black rimmed glasses and headphones completed the hipster yet not financially powerful kid look.

The Englishman smiled at them, shaking his head.

“Going out, Mr. and Mr. Draper?” he said, hands behind his back hiding his amusement. Tim nodded, wide smile twisting the lip ring that adorned the corner of his mouth.

Damian smirked, arm wrapping around Tim’s as his smaller head rested on his brother’s shoulder.

“Will you cover for us, Mr. Pennyworth, sir?” he asked, eyes wide and innocent as obviously fake as his street accent was thick. The perfect picture of the mischievous street boy. Alfred nodded with an approving smile. Obviously Master Timothy had been mentoring Young Master Damian for a long time.

“Of course, Mr. Draper,” he said finally, opening the door for them. “Have a wonderful evening, you two.”

“Thanks Jeeves!” Alvin grinned, clasping his hand around his little bro’s one and dragging him away. “Let’s go, Bobby!”

The old man shook his head as he saw them run, his smile fond.

It had been such a long time since he had seen those two smile like that.

He only hoped they didn’t run into any trouble as they paraded the streets and made them their own.

 

****

 

Alvin laughed loudly as he pulled Bobby behind him, both of their cheeks flushed with excitement and glee over the comfortable weight of the cash they felt loading their pockets. It would be a wonderful night, tonight, as the streets had been loaded with less experienced pickpockets’ whose finesse was so terrible they deserved to get mugged by the Draper boys.

Plus, who was going to tell?

The police?

Not likely.

“Tonight we are going to get whatever you want, Bobby!” Alvin said, his arms wrapping around his brother’s shoulders and pulling him towards him tightly. “Just say the word and we’ll get it just for you!”

Bobby’s wide blue eyes widened further as he stared up at his brother, his hero, before snuggling into the warmth of his chest, not wanting to let go.

How he loved his Alvin.

“I want to have ice cream,” Bobby finally said. “You and me, like when we were kids.”

Alvin smiled, kissing his brother’s forehead and placing a red cap over his dark hair.

“Ice cream it is, Baby Bobby,” Alvin cheered, starting to walk into the crowded streets only to stop when a gun was clocked at his head from a distance.  Instantly both Draper siblings tensed, eyes set on the barrel of the gun and not at the common street tug holding it.

What was the use?

It was the same low life loser they had stolen the money from in the first place.

“Hand over the dough, kid,” the man growled. “Penguin is going to kill me if he finds out I let two street rats like yourselves mess with my business.”

“What business?” Alvin sneered. “You pickpocketed this load. Surely you lost the rest and didn’t want Cobblepot to know?”

“What? You damn brat!” the man hissed, eyes wide as his finger tightened on the trigger.

“Oi, Olson!” a man yelled, approaching him. “The coppers are on their way!”

The man, Olson, turned to the newcomer with mad eyes before his hand trembler on the gun. He was obviously debating whether to kill the two kids and get his money back or to run for it and just steal some more. He had witnesses now and it made the situation trickier.

For one, The Penguin would not like it when he found out he lost his money, that one was a given, but the old man was even more adamant that children should not be harmed during his operations and if word got out that he was seen shooting kids he would be questioned anyways. His involvement would be revealed.

He shook his head as the police sirens made themselves louder and louder, closer and closer.

With a hiss, he lowered his arm, hands pulling his cap over his eyes as he turned to run.

“Thank yer lucky star, Brats!” he yelled as he ran. “You won’t be so lucky next time I catch ye!”

Alvin and Bobby sighed a small sigh of relief before the younger boy’s arms tightened around his brother’s smaller waist.

“I would have protected you,” he muttered. “You know that, right?”

Alvin stared at him before shaking his head.

“I’m the older brother,” he said. “I won’t ever let someone hurt you.”

They would have fallen into an argument for sure, over who was more apt to protect the other from a weakling holding a gun, but the police cars were finally parking in front of them and three different officers where coming down, flashlights pointed at their faces, momentarily blinding them.

Alvin blinked.

“Who the fuck called the cops on us?” he muttered, arms tight around Bobby.

His answer came in the form of a tall woman in a fuzzy blue bathrobe covering her cotton pajama and black kitty slippers covering her small feet. Her shoulder length black hair was in  disarray, as if she had carted her red painted nails over it more than necessary and her makeup was running down her cheeks with her tears.

“You brat!” she cried as she slapped Alvin soundly, her fingers leaving a red impression on her cheek. “How do you think I felt when I got home and found you and your brother gone? Huh?”

Alvin stared at her for a moment, the way her hands trembled as she pulled a crushed cigarette pack and put one of the sticks to her red lips, biting the filter with red-smudged teeth.

He lowered his head.

“Sorry, Momma,” he said finally, chin resting on top of Bobby’s hair. “I just wanted to celebrate Bobby’s B-day and you had a long shift at the diner and…”

The woman shook her head, finally wrapping her arms around the two and sobbing her heart out.

“Silly brat, I managed to get out early,” she sobbed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Sorry, momma,” Alvin said, wrapping an arm around her.

“Sorry, mommy,” Bobby echoed, his own arm coming to rest around her waist. “But you didn’t have to call the cops on us.”

The woman blinked, a huff parting her lips.

“I didn’t call the police, dear,” she snapped. “That no good of a father of yours called them for me.”

Alvin’s and Bobby’s blue eyes widened.

“Pops?” Alvin asked, his voice shaking.

“See, officer?” a gruff voice called from the other side of the alleyway. “Told ya’ I was looking for my kids!”

“Leroy!” the woman glared. “I thought you were in jail again.”

“Aw, Candy, Babe!” the man said, grinning. “Can’t a man come and say Happy Birthday to his babby boy?”

The officer in charge stared between the arguing adults and the rapidly paling children, not ignoring the way little Bobby Draper seemed to want to curl around his older brother and hide his face from his new coming father.

“Are you clean, Leroy?” Candy growled, her hands on her hips.

“As a newborn,” the man replied, grinning. “Come on, sweets, gimme another chance! I’m on parole! Turned a new leaf and all!”

Candy wrapped her arms around her children, glaring at him.

“You really came here for Bobby’s Birthday?” she asked, suspicious. The man’s grin turned foolish as he produced a small box from the pocket of his old coat.

“See? I even brought the kid a present,” he laughed. “Come here you two and give your old man a hug, won’t cha?”

Alvin and Bobby looked at eachother for a second, secret communication passing them before they turned to their mother and waited for her conscent. When she nodded, albeit reluctantly, they both launched themselves to embrace the massive man, twin smiles on their faces.

The cops sighed, smiling themselves.

“Then we’ll let this go,” the officer in charge chirped, hands in his pockets.

“Thank you officers,” Candy said, her smile small.

“No problem Mrs. Draper,” the officer laughed. “Take care of your kids, Matches, we’ll be watching you!”

“Sure officers!” the man said. “Thank you for the ride!”

The family kept their embrace for a while longer until the police cars had driven away and Matches’ massive hands rested on his sons’ shoulders, making both boys look up.

Amused green and blue eyes stared at them before Mrs. Candy Draper curled around her ‘husband’.

“Didn’t I tell you those two were up to something, dear?” she said, her voice turning from the frantic high squeal of a few moments to a sultry purr.

Alvin’s cheeks colored a deep red, his hand tight around Bobby’s.

“I knew Alfred was up to something, covering for you both, but this?” Matches laughed, his hands ruffling the kids’ hair. “Let’s go back home, you two. I think there is an explanation in order.”

Bobby bit his lips, his hand tight and tense around Alvin’s. He didn’t want to break character, he didn’t want to fail his training so hard, but he was still young and doubts were taking root in his childish heart.

“Are you angry at us, Father?” he asked, eyes fixed on his muddy shoes.

Bruce stared at his sons, eyes fond.

“I’m rather surprised you have been sneaking around us for so long without anyone noticing,” he said honestly, his hand resting on Damian’s shoulder. “But not angry, no.”

“More like relieved,” Selina purred, her grin widening. “He was so upset you two were fighting all the time.”

“We’ll talk about this back home, boys,” Bruce said, glaring at Selina as his own cheeks colored lightly. “I’m sure Alfred has something warm waiting for you two.”

“Spoilsport,” Selina huffed in mock annoyance, her arm curling around his. “Shall we, boys?”

Tim and Damian stared at them and then at eachother, twin grins of amusement lighting up their faces.  

“Happy Birthday, little brother,” Tim whispered against Damian’s ear before laying a small kiss on his cheek. Damian curled against his brother’s side, mumbling his gratitude.

“Boys?” Selina called, her voice squeaky once again.

“Yes, Momma!”  they cried in unison.


	6. A Waste

When Tarek approached him with a plan to increase Young Master Damian’s stealth skills by having him survive on his own in a foreign city, Ra’s had been bored. There was no challenge in an urban survival trial, especially not for his gifted grandson.

When the teacher mentioned that the city in question was Gotham, however, Ra’s’ interest had been aroused and he decided to approve the exercise on the condition that The Detective must never know the child was there, upon the threat of death.

When Damian returned triumphal a year later, eyes bright and declaring he had learnt such skill at undercover ops that even Tarek himself had not been able to find him, Ra’s was skeptic and Talia unamused. When Tarek confessed he had indeed lost the Demon’s Heir in the streets of Gotham, he had expected praise for his teachings and was met with the sharp edge of The Demon’s Head’s sword for his daring.

Ra’s Al Ghul would not tolerate a minion that could so carelessly endanger his plans.

However, there was something about his grandson that caught his attention now. In the way his posture was perfect, his pronunciation flawless and with a hint of colloquialism that had not been there before, how his eyes would search the night sky for something only he appeared to see.

Something had changed his grandson in Gotham, Ra’s was sure.

And then the first letter came tied carefully around the collar of a toy cat, a childish mockery of a Siamese with enormous blue eyes and curly whisker that Damian had instantly taken in his arms and hadn’t let go of for hours. His eager face a mask of deep concentration as he devoured each and every word addressed to Mr. Bobby Draper and then to Miss Nadya Tarnawska, to Mr. Damian Batson and Miss Maria Encarnacion Soriano.

Ra’s sighed, enjoying the puzzle his grandson had brought home from Gotham, his own paragon of perfection and a possible future bride in this Miss Hill if Talia was to be believed.

Unfortunately, however, no matter how much Ra’s pried, researched and bribed, had he been able to find a picture of the elusive woman, nor any health records or evidence Caroline Hill existed whatsoever, which puzzled Ra’s further.

There was no way Damian of all people, could keep a secret from him, no matter how much he tried, which could only mean his grandson had found a mind that could rival his own.

A detective of his own.

Ra’s smirked, satisfied which such conclusion. And decided to leave his grandson be while he imagined the children his strong blood could create with such a prodigious intelligence as Miss Hill’s… a worthy heir indeed, Damian was.   
  
When Damian received a picture on one of his accustomed blank envelopes of an older looking girl with honey colored hair with a short message of:  _‘I think my breasts are too big, what do you think?’_ that sent the young boy into a fit of barely restricted giggles Ra’s had to force himself to evaluate such crude young woman as a member of his family, no matter how intelligent she might be.

But he had other things of importance to care at the time, like The Detective’s new companion, a lonely looking boy named Timothy Drake, a third fledgling for The Detective’s war. So he ignored Miss Hill’s inappropriate comments and let his grandson be.

He could always discipline the girl if such tendencies continued.

When Talia snarled at him that her son, her darling, had replied to the photograph with a short and simple:  _‘I think they are just perfect, round and complementary, can I touch them next time?’_ , Ra’s has rolled his eyes internally – as it was unbecoming of the Demon’s Head to demonstrate frustration to his subjects – and assured his daughter he would talk to the boy himself about proper decorum.

But there was a riot in Arkham and his attention became otherwise engaged.

By the time he realized his immense mistake, Damian was standing behind him outside one of Gotham’s most prestigious hotels, eyes narrowed as he threatened that, should he involve himself with Timothy, he would face his wrath.

“Timothy, grandson?” he asked, an eyebrow rising. “It was my belief that you were not in kind terms with the young Detective.”

Damian growled, a cold smirk curling his lips.

“And that, grandfather, would be your mistake,” the boy said evenly. “You won’t try to steal my brother away from me away from me.”

Ra’s frowned, not sure he was quite understanding what said mistake would be.

“I have no plans of stealing your family, grandson,” he explained carefully, his grandson was not the most patient of men.

“You tried to force a child from my brother,” Damian hissed. “I will never allow it.”

Oh.

“That? It was an experiment, really,” he said, nonchalantly. “The Young Detective proved himself quite talented during that little game of ours, it was only logical I tried to secure a souvenir out of our shared adventure.”

“You will only receive one warning from me,” the child said coldly, turning from him. “Should Timothy choose to mate, it will be with someone I approve of, not before.”

And as Damian walked away, Damian could finally see a woman waiting for him under the Gotham rain, petite hands holding an umbrella as she stared worriedly at the soaked child before drying his face with a handkerchief.

Ra’s eyes widened when his eyes met Caroline Hill’s calm blue eyes, a smirk curling her colar-painted lips before her hands grasped Damian’s and gently tugged him away from the old man.

The same girl that had been contacting his grandson for almost six years. The same girl Talia had tried to find and destroy before she proved a weakness for her darling little one, the same he had deemed a worthy bride for his bloodline and the same he had dismissed until a later date.

The same now young woman mouthing a gentle:

“Good bye, Ra’s, please don’t get close to my family again,”

Before walking away with his grandson.

Unable to help himself, Ra’s Al Ghul laughed, his head thrown back, eyes closed.

He had dismissed Damian as unimportant in his quest for greatness. And had ignored the fact that the Young Detective, the one that will, one day, take The Detective’s mantle to continue his battle, had been his grandson’s secret contact all along. The one that sent cat pictures and toys and letters, the one that made sure Damian was happy and great.

Tarek had never taught Damian a thing.

It was been Timothy all along.

He would have to go home and explain to his daughter that they had lost little Damian a long time ago, before the name of Wayne hardly mattered to him. And that if Timothy had not insinuated himself into Batman’s life, their Damian would have named himself Damian Drake for all he cared.

He was not her son nor his grandson any longer, maybe never was.

He would always be Timothy Drake’s brother.

He shook his head.

“I certainly chose the wrong family member to lure Timothy to our side, apparently,” he muttered to himself as the limousine arrived to pick him up.

And as he drove towards the airport and back to his own homeland, Ra’s mind was filled with the pictures of young Caroline Damian had hidden over the years, of Timothy Drake’s young face, smiling shyly as he wrote to his brother, and of the heirs that he would never have.

Such a wasted opportunity in his path to glory. 


End file.
